Jackson
by Little Miss Thalia Grace
Summary: "A zombie. You have a zombie." Quirrell deadpanned. "There is a zombie in our house." "Well, technically he's an Inferius—" Tom brings home his new BFF and chaos ensues. Quirrelmort.


**A/N: I got this idea re-reading HBP, my fav of the series. It was at the part with the zom—oh sorry, **_**inferi. **_**Can you imagine Tom bringing one home?**

**Dedicated to KK94 and NimueTheSorceress.**

**Jackson**

"Tom?" Quirrell called, walking down the empty hall. When there was no reply, he shrugged and walked over to the bathroom. He really had to go.

That need, however, was put aside as he heard strange… _noises _coming from the other side. It sounded like grunting and grumbling at the same time. He rapped his knuckles on the door quickly. "Tom?" He called again, more softly.

There was the sound of cursing and more noises, someone frantically whispering _"Shut up!" _and the doorknob turning.

The door opened in what seemed like slow motion, and only just wide enough for Tom to slide through quickly and shut it behind him before Quirrell could see what was going on.

"Quirrell, hey! I didn't know you were back already!" Tom seemed… nervous? Now that Quirrell was closer, he could also make out that Tom's recently reclaimed hair was unkempt; his clothes were ruffled and dirty and… _was that blood?_

"I got the day off because Johnny set Desha's hair on fire… what have you been up to?" Quirrell had gotten a job as a private tutor to two ADD kids, which had seemed to have gifted him with unlimited patience that weaned thin around Tom. A loud bang was heard from the bathroom. "What was that?"

Tom cursed and looked between the door and Quirrell frantically. "Just a moment," before Quirrell could reply, Tom slipped into the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding behind him. More grunts and curse words could be heard, with the occasional crash.

Quirrell could have easily opened the door with Alohomora, but he preferred to hear Tom's explanation, if it ever came. After a few minutes of this, Tom came back out even messier, and _more _blood.

Quirrell sighed. "Tom, how many times do I have to tell you, keep your work at work."

Tom looked a little shamefaced. "Ah, um, no. You see, this isn't really, err, work related, It's more like… I wanted to keep him type thing…" Did Tom bring home a puppy? "And well, eh, you promise to love no matter what, right?"

"It's the only reason I'm still here," Quirrell joked, though Tom didn't seem to find it funny.

"Okay, t-that's not really helpful but, um, okay, you see…" Tom looked extremely uncomfortable and out of place. "Here, just let me show you… You may want to step back…"

Quirrell did as he was asked and backed up a good few feet, and Tom sighed. Tom opened the door and muttered something Quirrell couldn't hear, and stepped back too. And out of the bathroom stepped…

"A zombie. You have a zombie." Quirrell deadpanned. "There is a zombie in our house."

"Well, technically he's an Inferius—"

"A zombie, Tom! You've had a Zombie in our bathroom!" Quirrell's voice raised a few pitches, whether from anxiety or anger, nobody knew.

"Inferius, Quirrell, and no, he hasn't been in there until recently. Now, the most important question," Tom turned to give Quirrell puppy eyes. "Can we keep him?"

The zombie gave another grumble, this time sounding pleading. Quirrell closed his eyes and counted to ten. _You love him, remember, you love him more than anything else, He's your family, you him and Ginny…_

"No Tom, we are not keeping the zombie."

"But Quirrell, please? Jackson wouldn't hurt a mudblood—"

"Jackson? You gave it a name?"

"_Him, _Quirrell, I gave _him _a name. Inferi have feelings too!"

Quirrell sighed in exasperation. "Tom, you are not keeping _him."_

"But—"

"No."

"Come on—"

"No."

"Please—"

"No. How do we know _he _won't kill us in our sleep?

Tom rolled his eyes. "Inferi are lifeless and dull. They'll only attack if they're provoked." Tom said as though it should be obvious. "Like this." Tom whacked Jackson up the side of his head.

Jackson let out a roar and quickly swatted Tom back, only missing because of Tom's reflexes. "Well… didn't think that one through…"

"No shit Sherlock." Tom ignored Quirrell and shoved Jackson back into the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

"Quirrell! Get me my wand! It's on the kitchen counter!" Tom called, before a thud was heard.

Quirrell sighed and made his way to the kitchen, passing a certain redhead sitting on the couch. However, Quirrell didn't notice her until he was on his way back to the bathroom. When he did, he took a double take.

"Ginny? What are you doing here?"

Ginny looked up from her show on the telly. "Oh, hey Squirrell. I've been here for a couple hours. Where's Voldy?"

"A couple- and you didn't hear anything that just went on in the last ten minutes?" Quirrell gave her an incredulous look.

"No, I didn't. There's a Doctor Who marathon playing, you really think I care about anything else?" This time, it was _her _who gave Quirrell a look. "Want to join me?"

Quirrell sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that night. Doctor Who was really tempting, but Tom…

"Just let me give Tom his wand so he has a fighting chance against his pet zombie in the bathroom. Be back in a few."

Ginny nodded like zombies were an everyday occurrence, only shouting "Aim for the head!" after him.

Quirrell made his way down the hall again, stopping outside the bathroom door. "Tom? I got your wand here!" he called. There was a moments silence and another thud before Tom's voice came through.

"Just slide it under the door!" Quirrell did as ordered, and turned back around, only to see Ginny right there.

"Gah! Bloody—where do you come from woman?" He demanded.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, being a teacher and all, I'm sure you know that when a man and a woman—"

A large 'A-Ha!' Came from the other side of the door. "Think that was Tom or the zombie?" Ginny asked.

"Err… As far as I know, Jackson only makes grunts and such, so I'm going to go with… Tom."

Ginny nodded. A green light shown through the cracks of the door for a couple seconds before Tom's voice came muffled, "Why must you already be dead?!"

"Should… should we help him?" Quirrell asked uncertainly.

"Nah," Ginny said, "He's got this."

"To The Doctor?" Quirrell suggested.

"To The Doctor." Ginny confirmed.

Surprisingly, they were only half-way through the next episode when Tom came out, messier, bloodier and smugger than ever before. "As it turns out, Inferi are resistible to the killing curse, but are absolute suckers to any cutting, blasting or paralyzing."

"Well, I'm sure that info will come very much in handy next time you decide to bring one home.' Quirrell muttered.

"Which brings me back to my original question," Tom grinned. "Can we keep him?"

"NO!"

**End.**


End file.
